cheeeeeeeeese.

CHEEEEEEEEESE! So we don't forget your wrinkled nose and squinted eyes and wide smile. You are the sweetest.

Isaac in front of a Christmas tree.

Because if you don't blog about it, it never happened. At least that's what my friend Rachel tells me. And I believe everything she says because I'm afraid of her I love her.

I was surprised to discover that Isaac doesn't care too much for the tree...unless he catches you re-hanging the ornaments; then he's super interested. I think his love language is ornament displacement. He's very helpful like that. The tree is sparse this year with just a few Isaac-proof ornaments that he can grab, chew, lick and love to his heart's content. The one I put on and shouldn't have was his "Baby's 1st Christmas" block ornament. Isaac's little chompers scraped away a bit of the paint. At first I was quite sad and a little irritated to find it blemished. But then my wise, reasonable and might I add, beautiful, mother simply stated that one day I will cherish those marks left by my son and I knew she was right. Sometimes I'm dumb. I suspect presents will be met with the same excitement as the Christmas tree. But I'm excited, nevertheless, to see Isaac rip open approximately 0.46 presents before he's distracted and enamored with a box, paper, bow or my hair. He loves hair. 

It was with great anticipation we were awaiting Isaac's arrival last year. And now it is with a renewed perspective that I anticipate and await the celebration of the birth of our Savior. Merry Christmas.

lately-ish.

I'm making no apologies for the formatting of this post. It's a little awkward, but today, I don't care-ish.

Since it's been forever and a day, I have a little life update in mostly photos consisting mostly of a certain little boy. #sorrynotsorry

Obligatory pumpkin patch photo op. The day was a beautiful one, but we didn't get to the patch until late afternoon so it was a little chilly, started raining (but stopped) and I wore stupid shoes that picked up every.single.sticker in the field (yes, I should know better). My ridiculousness aside, it was fun and Isaac liked touching all the pumpkins. All the pumpkins.

I'm thinking this one's obvious, but: Halloween. Isaac was a…cow. He tolerated it quite well and made no attempt at removing the hat/ears/headpiece. He sweetly indulged his mom and dad; and because of the cold temps and the fact that he's 8 months old we only ventured over to the next door neighbor's who kindly gave "him" some yummy treats. Oh Mr. Moo, you slay me.

Tim and I had been discussing for a few weeks how Isaac was needing a haircut, so when the opportunity arose, we had him trimmed up a bit. Considering how grown-up it makes him look, it wasn't nearly as traumatic as expected. For me or him. There were no tears or blood, so I count that a success. He sat fairly well, although his interest in the scissors and the exciting ordeal that is a haircut, kept his head turning and me coming up with tricks to keep him still. ish. And look how excited he is that it's all over. Silly, grown-up boy. And for those of you worried about my hair, I took a turn in the chair right after.

Isaac tolerates the shades, and rides outside are fun because the wind blows in his face. He.loves.wind.

Still a reading fool.

Stealing kisses.

At least 1000 times a day. Because I. can't. help. myself. And he's my son. And he can't tell me no. Yet.

 I mean- the CHEEKS!

Sly little guy.

I was headed to change out the laundry when I safely put my son in his crib; and then he quickly did this. I'd say Isaac is rather pleased with himself. Me? I'm scared. And proud. But mostly scared. I mean, proud. Guess the crib goes down another notch. #wheresmybaby

182.5 Days.

Also known as SIX months. Aka half of a year. Aka the age of my baby boy. Aka a day of denial and crocodile tears. How did this happen? Half a year has come and gone and it felt like a day. Maybe this is a glimpse into what heaven will feel like. Maybe because I'm late writing this, it hasn't actually happened yet. Isn't that the way it works: if a tree falls and there's no one there to hear it, does it really make a sound. Likewise, if I don't blog about my son getting older, does it really happen. Surely not. Oh Isaac, stay my baby forever.

This little boy has captured our hearts. There's been less sleep than was imaginable, more joy than we could have known, so.many.diapers, but more love than we ever thought possible.

And now a reminder to keep you humble.

Nicknames include: I-Man, Mr. Moo, Bubba, I (which can be especially funny- for example:)

What you're doing: Moving, moving and then some more moving. You roll, go from laying to sitting, sit and flop as you try to crawl. You're squealing, laughing, smiling, fake coughing to get our attention, trying solid foods. Yum? 

You love: your mom and dad (duh), reading, Peter Rabbit, trees, being outside, eating your toes, chewing on anything that happens in front of you, others peoples' fingers, being sung to- especially the ABC's, The Itsy Bitsy Spider and Skinamarinky Dinky Dink (bonus if actions are involved), things that crinkle and probably lots more adorableness that escapes me now.

If these past six months are any indication of how fleeting our time with you will seem, I surely want to soak it all up. Every last happy, cranky, sad, sweet part of you. I could eat you up, I love you so.

Goodland takes Topeka by storm. Or something.

This one time, in Topeka, a couple of farmers went on TV. And then they were all like, "I'm sorry but our camera adds an extra 50 lbs" and I was all like, "It's ok." Also, it's always been a dream of mine to be on TV with my roots growing something fierce. #saidnooneever

We received this opportunity by way of Kansas Farm Bureau (KFB) and our involvement with Young Farmers and Ranchers (YF&R). I spoke a bit about that here and here and here. Chef Alli and the morning crew at WIBW were nothing but kind and welcoming and made the experience as easy as easy can be for two people who know nothing about nothing. So now that we're clear about that. The most surprising part, perhaps, was it only took us two takes. And it's a wonder that's all because once we started over we didn't just redo the part where I completely forgot what I was saying. Oh no. We went back.to.the.very.beginning. The pressure was on. It was also at that time I became clairvoyant and saw myself accepting the "Most Takes at WIBW. Ever." award.

We were there to talk YF&R, our move back to the family farm and how I need to visit the salon. Also Blackberry Skillet Coffee Cake, which was as delicious as it sounds. Isaac? He was there to make us look good. And wear baby overalls, which is always my favorite. 

We thank Alli and WIBW for allowing us to come and share a little bit of our story. And we thank you, Alli, for your part in promoting agriculture, and helping others better understand where and from whom their food comes. This blog post could also possibly win an award for number of links used. 

Fair enough.

My most recent (and also, only) state fair memory took place the summer Tim and I were married and we lived in Iowa. And everybody goes to the Iowa State Fair. I have three things to say about this:

1. White pants (I knooooow) and a Philly Cheesesteak (a definite weird choice for me). 
2. 100°+ temps. 
3. A bozo blocked our parking lot entrance/exit so we waited on a tow truck.

I think it's fair (ha!) to say that fairs for me, in general, are an unknown quantity. That is until we moved back to the farm. Now it guarantees a week of family as far as the eye can see, full houses and constant activity. I say this with much sincerity and affection because in the three short years we have been here, it already holds many fond memories; and I'm excited for Isaac to have fun memories of fair time, too!

One of the neat things about our county fair is that the rides and booths are county owned. No creepy carnies here. There is a lot of pride in making sure the rides run safely and well; and there's a volunteer team that meets one night a week throughout the entire year to ensure that happens. It's a total labor of love and is appreciated so much. 

Also, if you're reading this Carrie Beth, the little boy riding circles below is your son circa 2011. #E$

See friends? If you come visit during fair (and you should), then maybe you can make a blog appearance. Three years later, when you forget you even visited.

Stop it.

This sweet girl made her first appearance on the blog a while back. She's still the same ball of fire but a 5-year-old version about to go to kindergarten. Real talk: how did this happen and where was I when it did? She certainly didn't have my permission.

Same goes for her 7-year-old brother.

 And her 3-year-old cousin, too. Stop it.

What I do know is they are precious and make this Aunt smile proudly. It is a joy and honor to watch them grow up. And if I'm honest, a little sad, as well, because it goes all too quickly. Thanks for your recent visit and welcoming Isaac into the fold. You are loved.

Harvesting fools.

Well harvest has now been over almost as long as it took to complete! It was drawn out this year because of some cooler weather and moisture. We don't like to complain about the wet stuff but when you have crops in the ground that need to come out you get a little antsy. Especially when the wet stuff is accompanied by the much loathed white combine.

I failed miserably at taking very many pictures but I think the ones I did get are pretty su-weet.

Since Tim was pulling some long days, we had family fun night on the combine. Isaac's obvious enthusiasm was palpable. In other news, I can tell you where he'll be for much of corn harvest. #combineFTW

As with any harvest, we are always thankful when we have something to cut and when it's completed safely. Even if it means not seeing your husband for three weeks.

Eager reader.

My man, Moo, loves to read and has for a long time. Sweet boy will regularly hang in for 10 or 12 books in a sitting. My astute observation of his leg and arm movement tell me some of his favorites include Brown Bear, Brown Bear, What do you see?, Are you a Cow? and Big Red Barn. Sometimes we call Isaac, Michael Flatley, because of all the Riverdance action that goes on at our house. If you're looking to do a jig, Isaac's always up for a partner. 

Another sweet thing about all this reading business is the arm/shoulder/head touching that goes on. And since my little boy isn't super cuddly, I just love how he touches you when you read to him. Be still my heart. I hope he always has a love for reading. And Riverdance.

Friday photo dump.

For posterity and to immortalize my son's existence on the world wide web. Never mind that I just printed 1000+ pictures off Shutterfly. Whoops. Real talk: first child problems. Or I have a problem.

And that's all she wrote- which wasn't very much.

Whatever I feel like. Gosh.

Isaac has a mostly full head of hair, minus a bald patch on the back right. It's ok, kiddo, you're still young so it's cute.

Oftentimes, his hair is the first thing people comment on- that, or how much he looks like his Dad. Never mind that I carried him for nine months and labored for 24+ hours. I digress.

Isaac's head can radiate some serious heat. In fact, it would seem that Isaac suffers from Pedro Syndrome, named by Urban Dictionary after Napoleon's BFF, Pedro Sanchez. Hilarious, right? Maybe, maybe not, but I still can't think about Isaac's sweaty head and not wonder if he'd shave it, too. In all sincerity, I-Man, I adore you and your mop of sweet, sweet hair.

Exersaucer love.

This is Isaac's {current} happy place. I say current because there are others that have gone before: the vibrating seat and the beloved swing.

The exersaucer gives him some newfound independence (tear) with the ability to stand up, turn in circles and all the chewing fun he can possibly stand. The poor giraffe has already endured a good gnawing and I don't think he's letting up any time soon. My son is nothing if not persistent.

Right now.

This is right now. Today. We enjoyed a day home with Daddy and I got a rare picture of the two of us that isn't grainy and taken backwards on the 'ol phone. Winning. Harvest began Thursday, and as of tomorrow we will be full throttle. Hello long days all around for the Franklins.  

Now if I could just get this little boy to stop growing so fast. Four months sure goes by in a hurry. 

What the…hail?!

Sorry. I couldn't resist that ridiculous blog post title. You know the adage when it rains it pours? Well in our case it could be when it hails it hails some more- especially when you don't buy hail insurance. Thankfully it hasn't brought a total loss, or even a partial, but it definitely will affect our wheat yield. And the corn is small and resilient enough it shouldn't have too much impact on harvest in the Fall. The storm that rolled through a couple weekends ago brought the biggest hail that Tim or I had ever seen in person. Ouch.

And when the rain does decide to stop and things dry up, we'll be just about ready for wheat harvest. In the meantime, we're pretty happy about the *almost* nightly rainfall that has brought us up to .83" below the YTD average. #gaining=winning

Stanley, Stanley.

I always like to tell the story about Tim's and my first date. I like to call it our first date but Tim will contest that it was really six days later to see The Incredibles the movie. To prepare for the date party we watched Aladdin and made these really elaborate shirts to go with the "50s Flashback" theme the night before. Not only did he wear the shirt, but he danced with me despite my super sweet moves. And I knew then that he could be someone special. 

Not only have we not aged in the last 10 years, we are also no less dorky. I fear we may be worse; and by worse I mean endearing…which actually brings me (finally) to the point of this silly post. It all started with the word touché. And how it made us think of Tucci- as in, Stanley Tucci. The actor. That's normal, right? So we'd say Tucci, Tucci instead. Then because we just can't help ourselves and we were watching a movie with Stanley Tucci in it, we morphed it even further into simply saying Stanley, Stanley.  This anecdote makes me smile and I wanted to write it down so I wouldn't forget. As if. 

Accidental Father's Day post. And Isaac's first tractor ride.

Does this photo look a little overexposed to you? Real talk: I need to spend some quality time with my camera. And the manual my internet friend, Jenn. Now if someone could just tell me where I can go to get my film developed. #kidding

It's a good thing I had my trusty iPhone handy to more aptly capture this sweet, sweet moment. Isaac had his very FIRST TRACTOR RIDE. Such a big boy. He didn't hate it which basically means he loved it. Right? He loved it so much he pooped his pants and even got some on Dad #isaacforthewin. I still have to remember that my son (my son) will have the privilege of growing up on a farm; and I'm curious to see if he shares the same affinity for farming as Tim. Then maybe he can trick his wife into moving back to the farm as well #momforthewin.

This post was supposed to make an appearance last week, but that didn't happen. So instead, I post it on Father's Day weekend and dedicate it to the man in all these photos that our son gets to call Dad. We love you and thank you for all you do. Isaac and I couldn't be more blessed.